


Beyond the Sea

by sodium_amytal



Category: Rush (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Humor, M/M, M/M/M, Polyamory, with a bit of smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-07-28 15:44:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7647064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sodium_amytal/pseuds/sodium_amytal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Hemispheres era. Every other year since Geddy moved to Toronto, he has grudgingly made the pilgrimage back to Victoria, British Columbia, to his parents’ twenty-acre vineyard for the last week of harvest. But add a gorgeous modern-day pirate, a smooth-talking mechanic, and an estranged brother into the mix, and Geddy’s in for much more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"The harvest party is next weekend," Dad says over the phone. "If you can make it."

Every other year since Geddy moved to Toronto, he has grudgingly made the pilgrimage back to Victoria, British Columbia, to his parents' twenty-acre vineyard for the last week of harvest. In his entire life Geddy has only missed three harvests, due to the fallout of an unforgivable transgression by his brother, Allan. The Weinrib family's modus operandi, to tiptoe around their childrens' intense dislike of each other, is to alternate the invitations each year: Geddy is invited one year, then Allan the next.

This is Geddy's year, and he is ambivalent.

"I have Maple Leafs tickets that weekend."

Dad sighs, like it's exhausting talking to his own son. "There'll be other games. And you can scalp the tickets for extra cash."

Dad is business-minded, which is unfortunate because his Jewish heritage makes this seem like an embarrassing example of living up to a stereotype. But he and Mom immigrated to Canada with very little, and he took a hell of a chance buying land that wasn't obvious for growing grapes. Hard work and wise investments paid off, and now Dad is constantly badgering Geddy about his financial decisions.

So it's not surprising Geddy might not want to go home and be subjected to well-meaning yet grating implications that he's throwing his life away.

"Why don't you invite Allan instead?" Geddy asks.

"Because it's your year. And your brother's busy with his practice."

"So you did ask him."

"Your mother talked to him a few days ago," Dad says, brushing off the accusation. "But if you don't want to come, then don't. We'll do just fine." In that instant Geddy thinks he hears grief in his father's voice.

Geddy looks around his apartment. It's small and messy and almost too comfortable. Since his last break-up five years ago, Geddy has opted for the "creepy recluse" package, complete with all the bells and whistles: walking to the mailbox in his bathrobe, spending entire weekends without leaving the house, and home-cooked meals of ramen noodles (or macaroni and cheese if he's feeling fancy). All he needs is about five cats to complete his transformation into the shut-in weirdo he was born to be.

If Geddy turns this down, he knows he'll spend the entire week regretting it and wishing for a change of scenery. It has been years since he's been able to enjoy the presence of another human in his living space.

"Alright, Dad, I'll see you at the house."

"I knew you were the smart one."

* * *

The cab ride from Victoria International Airport to the actual city of Victoria takes about thirty minutes. The air is crisp and balmy with a hint of sea salt that Geddy tastes in the back of his throat. It's a welcome change from the climate of Toronto, which grows colder every day as winter looms totemic.

Geddy's parents live in a quiet section of Oak Bay near the coast. The neighborhood is lush with vegetation, each house unique and varying from the last. Geddy enjoyed his childhood here—leisurely days at the beach, taking Dad's yacht out on the water—but as he grew the same carefree activities he enjoyed suddenly felt stifling and boring. Is that all there is, he'd wondered, feeling claustrophobic from the lack of possibilities.

Thick vines rich with grapes sweep by either side of the cab as it rolls ahead to the front of the house. The house is a wide, woodsy two-story model, with forest-green siding and a gable roof. There's a side porch jutting out on the left, red window shutters, and small, friendly trees sprouting in the front yard. Behind the house lies ten acres of vineyard and the winemaker's cottage.

Geddy lugs his suitcase up the walkway and digs out the spare key from the smiling frog flowerpot. Inside, the house smells like Mom's bouquet of flowers and lemon cleaning solution. The ceiling is impossibly high, the walls painted a soft grey.

"Mom? Dad?"

"Geddy?"

He hears Mom's voice, then the sound of the back porch door sliding open as Mom steps inside.

"Geddy, I'm so glad you could make it." She hugs him, and Geddy is filled with emotions he can't identify. "This means a lot to your father, you know."

"Yeah, that's why I showed up."

"Is that my favorite son?" Dad's voice calls from the porch.

"Dad, I know I'm not your favorite, and it hurts when you say that," Geddy says, only half-joking.

Dad laughs and comes inside to hug him. "You're my favorite youngest son," he clarifies, putting his hands on Geddy's shoulders to get a look at him.

Geddy opens his mouth to remind Dad it hasn't been that long since his last visit, but since it was Allan's turn the previous year to attend the harvest party, maybe Geddy has changed since the last time he saw his parents.

"When are you gonna cut your hair?" Dad asks, tugging at Geddy's long tresses.

"When you stop pestering me about it," Geddy says with love.

"I think you look lovely," Mom says, kissing his cheek. She sort of edges Dad aside and takes Geddy's face in her hands. "How have you been, _bubbe_? Are you having a good time in the city?"

Geddy doesn't get a chance to answer, because a grating, familiar voice from the stairs says: "What is he doing here?"

The last time Geddy saw his brother, Allan, they were shouting at each other until Geddy said "I never want to see you again!" and stormed out the door. So it's a little awkward to be in the same room with him now, five years later.

This was supposed to be Geddy's year for the harvest party. But apparently Mom and Dad have gone senile and invited both brothers. It's not like they'd do this on purpose, right?

"He's here because he's your brother," Mom says to Allan. "And because I invited him."

Geddy's jaw drops. "You said it was my year!"

Dad shrugs and throws up his hands. "We're old. We forget things."

This, Geddy knows, is bullshit, because Mom and Dad can recall in perfect detail every one of their childrens' embarrassing moments, but suddenly neither of them remember who visited last?

"Can't you put your differences aside for one week and spend time with your family?" Mom says.

Geddy pouts and folds his arms over his chest. "You didn't tell me he was gonna be here."

Allan exhales an angry noise. "You won't even know I'm here."

"Oh, Allan, don't be a baby," Mom scolds, but Allan ignores her, slamming his bedroom door hard enough to make the framed pictures on the wall rattle.

Geddy sighs. He's been in his parents' house for less than five minutes and he's already made a mess of things.

Dad shakes his head and claps a hand on Geddy's shoulder. "Don't worry about him. He'll simmer down by dinner." The three of them sit on a pristine white couch in the living room. "How've you been, son? How was your trip?"

"Oh... fine. I guess."

"You still work at the record shop?"

It's more of a specialty shop for musical instruments, but Geddy doesn't bother correcting him. "Yep." He isn't sure if the disdain he hears in his father's voice is really there, or if he's just feeling guilty about his own low ambitions.

"You a manager?"

"No, not yet. But if I wait long enough, somebody'll die or get arrested, and they'll bump me up."

"When was the last time you had a raise?"

"Um..."

"Don't give him too much grief," Mom says. "He's still young. He can do anything."

Dad looks at Geddy, ignoring Mom's subtle attempt at diverting the conversation. "You ever think of working here at the vineyard? We could use another pair of hands."

"I dunno. That's kinda... I mean, I like Toronto. I have a life there." It's a lie, but it's nicer than telling the truth, that Geddy left because he wanted to get away from his life here.

Dad puts his hands up as if warding off an attack. "Just something to think about, is all."

Geddy thinks this is a good time for a subject change. "What's Allan been up to?"

"You could ask him yourself," Dad says.

"Somehow I don't think that will end well."

"Your brother's going through a difficult time with Nancy," Mom says.

"Oh." That explains why Nancy isn't here.

Nancy is Allan's wife, who ended up meeting Allan because she dated Geddy five years ago. Naturally, this has been a point of contention for the two brothers. Allan knew going in that Geddy had been with her first, so what was he expecting? But now every time Allan sees him, it's there in the back of his mind that Geddy slept with his wife. Men don't forget things like that, no matter how much they wish they could.

"How come you never told me?" Geddy asks.

"Because I couldn't stand to hear you gloat about it. I know you two have your differences, but you're still brothers."

"I wouldn't gloat," Geddy protests. "Out loud."

Mom gives him a look.

"I _wouldn't_!"

* * *

Dad was right about Allan showing up in time for dinner. The four of them sit at the table and exchange stilted, curt conversation over loaves of bread and pan-roasted chicken breasts. Geddy tries his hardest not to bring up Allan and Nancy's marital problems, because he would absolutely gloat to his brother's face if given the slightest opportunity. Serves him right.

"So, Geddy," Allan says, breaking an almost smothering silence. "You still work at that record store?"

"It's not really a record store. We sell musical instruments and equipment."

Allan laughs, but it's a mean sound, bitter and derisive. "Of course."

Allan has the career high ground, in that he's a podiatrist and his wife is a real estate lawyer.

"You look at feet all day," Geddy sneers, "so you've really got zero room to judge what I do for a living."

"Remind me, Geddy. How much do you make per hour selling knock-off guitars to stoner teenagers?"

"Boys," Mom warns.

"It's okay," Geddy says. "We're just catching up." He faces Allan. "I'm sorry we can't all turn our fetishes into a career like you did, Allan. By the way, how are you and Nancy doing?" Fuck it, it's gloating time.

Allan scowls at him. "Classic Geddy. You just can't resist rubbing it in, can you? You think you'd be a little more sympathetic about the end of my marriage."

Geddy's taken aback by this. He had no idea how serious Allan's problems were. "Is it really that bad?"

Allan's fury melts away for a moment, and he stares forlornly at his plate. "We're spending some time apart."

"Oh. How come? Money problems? Or did she realize she married the wrong brother?"

Geddy knows that was hurtful and not remotely constructive, but he said it anyway. He isn't sure why. It's a compulsion, the urge to say shitty things he doesn't mean.

Allan's eyes light up with indignation, and he seems to barely resist the urge to leap across the table and savagely bludgeon Geddy with the centerpiece.

"Geddy," Mom scolds, this time a harsh snap with an edge of "shut the fuck up."

Geddy goes quiet, obedient, though he wonders why Mom has let Allan's snide remarks slide by without complaint.

"You're right. I'm sure Nancy would love to throw her life away with an aimless, idiot pothead like you," Allan says.

"Boys, that's enough," Dad interjects, his voice raised. "You're gonna treat each other civilly while you're under my roof or you're going right back to Toronto, and you can be miserable to each other where I won't have to hear it."

Neither Geddy nor Allan speak another word to each other for the rest of dinner.

After night has fallen and Geddy's finished helping Mom with the dishes, he opts to sleep in the family's docked yacht rather than sleep in one of the upstairs bedrooms and risk another outburst at Allan. Geddy lugs his suitcase down the sloping road from the house and heads north.

A short walk from the Weinrib house lies the quaint marina where the yacht is moored. There are only two docks, and Geddy finds the boat almost immediately.

The family yacht isn't much to look at on the outside—just a plain white, sleek ship with a yellow stripe and the name "Red Barchetta" painted on the side. The yacht was the first extravagant purchase Dad made, and Geddy has many warm, cozy memories of spending the day and night out at sea with his father. Geddy would often point out that the boat was neither red nor a car, to which Dad jovially replied, "That's the joke!"

Geddy still doesn't understand a lot of Dad's jokes.

Geddy shoos away a seagull perched on the boat and tries the door. To his surprise, it opens. He climbs inside the cabin. The interior is just as he remembers it: traditional wood paneling and flooring, gaudy patterned couches and bedding and window dressing, everything feeling comfortably claustrophobic.

Stashed neatly throughout the cabin are boxes of his parents' wines. A few bottles are missing from each. Geddy sets his suitcase on one of the two long sleeper sofas. Between the couches is a wood table with neatly-folded newspapers, magazines, and a small radio.

When Geddy was younger, he used to get seasick (or at least sea nauseous) and would listen to music to help himself fall asleep. With glee, he finds the batteries still work.

He freshens up in the tiny bathroom and changes into a t-shirt and sweatpants. Just a few days, he tells himself. Just stay here five days, and you won't have to see Allan for at least another year. It shouldn't be that hard. If he keeps himself busy helping Dad with the vines and helping Mom cook for the harvest celebration, he might not even have to _talk_ to Allan until Friday. And by then, their mutual aversion may have thawed by their constant proximity to each other, and who knows what might happen? At the very least, a détente would make Mom and Dad happy.

Geddy pulls blankets out of the drawers beneath the beds. The blankets smell like mothballs and childhood nostalgia. He switches on the radio and makes himself comfortable. Jet lag and exhaustion sweep him away.

He wakes up in the middle of the night when an unfamiliar noise breaks the veil of sleep. Probably just the radio. Except he hears it again, and it's much too loud to be the radio. It sounds like it's coming from outside the sleeping quarters.

The thumping noises are footsteps. And they're coming closer. Geddy holds his breath.

Then the noises become quiet clinks, like glasses being knocked together. The glass doesn't sound hollow or thin. It almost sounds like bottles. Wine bottles.

Those missing wine bottles weren't missing at all. They were stolen, and this must be the thief.

The idea of someone sneaking into his parents' yacht and pilfering the wines they slaved over for entire harvest seasons enrages Geddy. If the thief sneaked in here before, chances are he didn't show up this time expecting company. He probably wouldn't have brought a weapon. Geddy can use that to his own advantage.

In his bravest, most intimidating voice, Geddy says, "What the hell are you doing?"

The intruder yelps a totally manly noise, and the bottles drop to the floor with heavy thumps. He flees, rushing for the stairs.

Oh hell no.

Geddy scrambles out of bed and gives chase, sprinting up the stairs and onto the deck. He grabs the intruder's long hair and pulls him back onto the boat. The thief falls on his ass and rubs his head.

"Ow, ow!"

"What the hell are you doing on my boat?" Geddy asks again.

In the illumination of the moonlight, Geddy can finally get a look at this guy. And, shit, he's actually really cute. His hair is blond, his face round and cherubic. He's got to be at least Geddy's age, or a few years younger.

"This is your boat? I'm sorry, I didn't know. I thought it was abandoned."

Geddy rolls his eyes. "So that makes it okay to steal?"

"Well, no, but it makes it sort of a victimless crime." He offers a smile, and new words need to be invented to describe how sinful his mouth is.

How does someone this attractive fall into a life of crime? He could probably make a killing as a hooker, which, yes, Geddy realizes is also a crime, but at least it's more dignified than stealing wine off people's boats.

"Well, let me tell you something, buddy. It's not a victimless crime," Geddy says, still doing his best to sound intimidating. "This is actually my parents' boat. That wine you're stealing? They make it. Eight hundred grapes go into a single bottle. How many have you stolen from us?"

The thief waits a moment to answer, like he thinks that might have been a rhetorical question. "Um... ten?"

Geddy huffs an angry breath.

"Not at once!" Like that makes a difference. "Just one or two over time, so, y'know, nobody notices."

"I noticed!"

"I realize that now—"

"That's eight thousand grapes you've stolen from my family."

The thief hangs his head.

"Just get out of here," Geddy sighs, disappointed. "And don't come back. I'm feeling generous, so count yourself lucky I don't turn you in to the police."

The thief stands up, beaten and pathetic. "I'm sorry," he says, looking at Geddy, and for a moment Geddy actually believes him.

Geddy waits until he disappears into the night before slipping back into the cabin.

* * *

Alex returns to the Rocinante feeling like garbage. He's never been caught before, and the effect is oddly sobering.

The Rocinante is moored north of Willows Beach in a cozy marina belonging to a yacht club. The ship itself is a magnificent houseboat, sleek and silver and spacious. Alex climbs on deck and lets himself inside the roomy cabin. In the lounge area, near the captain's chair, Neil sits cross-legged on one of the many orange couches, reading a dog-eared paperback. He glances up at the sound of Alex's footsteps on the polished wood floor.

"Hey."

"Hey."

When it comes to casual conversation, Neil is a man of few words. He works as an English professor at the nearby University of Victoria, a position Alex feels a little intimidated by, considering his lack of higher education and a real job.

"John's waiting for you," Neil says, flicking his gaze back to the pages. "But he's probably asleep by now."

"Yeah," Alex murmurs, unsure how he's going to discuss tonight's bust with John. He really doesn't want to discuss it at all, but John will be curious why Alex has returned empty-handed. "Good night."

Alex takes the companionway down to the guest stateroom. The lights are off, just the moonlight seeping in through the window, and Alex can see the silhouette of John's sleeping form in their bed. He strips off his jeans and peels back the blankets on the vacant side of the bed. Alex gingerly slips under the covers, but John rouses, rolling over and throwing an arm over him.

"There you are," John says, cuddling closer. "How'd it go?"

Alex sighs and gazes at the ceiling. "I got caught."

John chuckles. "Well, he let you go."

"It wasn't a cop. It was just... a guy. A guy I happened to be stealing from."

John's hand ventures down Alex's side, fingers digging into the meat of his thigh. His hands are strong and calloused from his work as a mechanic. "Was he a jerk? I'll kick his ass."

"Maybe I'm the jerk," Alex says in realization, and John's hormone-induced groping ceases. "I mean, at the end of the day, I'm a thief. I thought I just took stuff from abandoned boats, stuff nobody would notice. But this guy noticed. Plus, he was cute, so I feel extra bad about it."

John smiles and kisses Alex's jawline. Alex turns his head to face him, and John captures his mouth momentarily before Alex nudges him away.

"Be honest," Alex says, his voice quiet. "Do you think I should fly straight?"

"There's a lot of things we couldn't do anymore if you were straight," John teases, moving in to kiss Alex's mouth again.

Alex snickers a tiny sound despite himself. "I'm serious."

"So am I." John pushes a hand inside Alex's boxers, cupping his bare hip. "But I've always said you can do whatever you want. You don't have to be a pirate."

Alex wiggles under John's touch. "I'm not a pirate. I don't have an eyepatch. Or a foul-mouthed parrot. Or a hook for a hand. Or a peg-leg."

"We can make all of that happen. Just chop off some limbs and go to a pet store."

"Maybe go to the pet store first, 'cause it might be hard to get there hobbling around."

"You'll be the best damn pirate Canada's ever seen."

Alex laughs and turns onto his side, snaking an arm around John's waist. He gazes at John and feels the momentary levity fade. "I don't think I wanna be. I don't think I should be."

John, perhaps sensing that this is bothering Alex, pushes a hand into Alex's hair.

"You and Neil, I know you don't mean to, but—you guys make feel like I'm not good enough... I wanna do something different, but I don't know if I can. I'm not good at anything except this."

Alex carries his parents' expectations and judgment like tar in his lungs.

"Your paintings are fucking awesome," John reminds him. "And I'm not just saying that 'cause it's polite and you'll stop putting out if I don't. And you're smart. You helped fix up this boat. And you're a fantastic cook. There's so many things you're good at that you don't even realize."

"Blowjobs don't count."

"It's the world's oldest profession."

Alex rolls his eyes with affection and snuggles into John's chest. John smells of tantalizing cologne, and on any other night Alex would kiss him and suck him and fuck him until they're shaking and sweat-stippled, but tonight Alex is too wrapped up in his own unerotic thoughts.

"It's okay if you wanna take time to figure things out," John says, his breath warm in Alex's hair. "We live on a houseboat. We don't exactly need a six-figure income. But I'm on-board for whatever you wanna do."

"Was that a boat pun?"

John huffs a laugh and holds him tighter. " _Shore_ was."

John's sense of humor is an acquired taste—like beef tongue—and Alex loves him for it. They wouldn't have made it ten years together if they didn't find the same idiotic things hilarious.

Alex stays quiet, a myriad of thoughts running through his mind. John's breathing evens out as his body softens under the liquid haze of sleep. Alex doesn't quite know where his life went wrong. He dreams of fixing it, but in practice it's like trying to make a ninety-degree turn in a speeding boat, where the whole thing capsizes and leaves him stranded in churning water with no land in sight.


	2. Chapter 2

The grapes in the northwestern part of the vineyard won't come off the vines until tonight, so Geddy busies himself during the day by offering to pick up groceries. Anything to spend as little time around Allan as possible. Mom hands Geddy a detailed list for a market off Cadboro Bay and the keys to Dad's old Cadillac.

Dad's car still smells like tobacco, peppermint, and worn leather. Aside from a pine tree air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror, some loose change in the cupholders, and a sun-faded Montreal Expos cap in the backseat, the car is neat and tidy. Geddy switches the radio from soft rock to Lynyrd Skynyrd and heads north.

The sky is brilliantly blue with wispy puffs of clouds. The air whirls with seabreeze and the tang of salt. The roads are delightfully uncongested, a stark contrast to Toronto, which Geddy would appreciate on any other occasion, but he could use a traffic jam about now.

Driving through the leisurely summer streets, Geddy remembers how he used to ride along in this car with his father on weekends, listening to Bobby Darin and Django Reinhardt on the radio while the sun came up above the trees or disappeared below the horizon. Even now, at twenty-six years old, Geddy will hear those songs and immediately flash back to those moments.

The market is located in a small shopping center with a deli and a drycleaners on either side. It's more of a farm stand, with an open storefront and fewer shelves than a grocery store. Geddy pulls the list from his back pocket and starts to pick out items: frozen chicken breasts, a box of dried pasta, shredded cheese, two bulbs of garlic, jarred tomatoes, and a fresh red bell pepper.

There's a pretty phallic-looking cucumber in the produce section (complete with weird growths that kind of look like balls), and Geddy can't stop snickering at it. Clearly the guy standing next to him sees it as well, because he's chuckling too, though he's staring at it in a confused sort of way, like he can't decide whether to eat it or have sex with it.

"Why is that even here? Don't they weed out the ugly produce?"

"Maybe the guy in charge of all that thought it was funny," Geddy offers.

"It's hilarious," the guy agrees. "A lesser man might feel inadequate."

Geddy laughs and gets a good look at him. He's about Geddy's height, his body taut and defined, a perfect mix of musculature and sinews. His long hair is a warm brown color, with lighter wisps growing from his chin. His dark, thick eyebrows crown an impish face.

Geddy doesn't remember there being this many attractive people in Victoria when he was growing up. He's calling bullshit on the entire universe.

The guy's shopping cart is filled with steaks, bacon strips, pork loin, and frozen hamburger patties, like he emptied the entire meat counter.

"Hungry or suicidal?" Geddy wonders, kind of awed.

"My roommates eat a lot."

Geddy notices a familiar bottle of wine in the cart. "Oh, Rivendell? That's a good wine. One of my favorites."

"Yeah? I've never tried it before."

"It's great. At the risk of sounding like a shill, my parents own the vineyard it comes from. My father is a winemaker."

"No shit? The vineyard in Oak Bay?"

"That's the one!" Geddy's surprised this guy is familiar enough with the vineyard to know its location. Does he drive by it on the way to work each day?

"So how come I've never seen you around?"

"'Cause I moved to Toronto seven years ago. I'm just here visiting."

"Then I should probably ask you if you wanna get lunch."

Geddy's certain he's wearing a stupid-looking stunned expression right now. What the fuck is going on? Ever since Nancy left him for Allan, Geddy's been clamoring for a girlfriend, a boyfriend, for anyone remotely attractive to have some sort of sexual or romantic interest in him. So of course the one time he stops trying is when someone wants a date with him.

"Maybe if I knew your name," Geddy says, because he thinks that's an important point.

The man smiles and says, "John."

"Geddy."

He's floored when John actually doesn't laugh. "Exotic. I like it."

There's a burger shack across the street, so that's where they go. John demonstrates his monster-sized appetite by ordering a burger topped with melted cheese, roasted green chilis, sliced jalapeños, and spicy mayonnaise. Geddy judges him a little, even though his own burger has a crispy, fried mozzarella steak perched on top.

"So do you just punish your body on a regular basis, or..." Geddy trails off, not really sure where he was going with that.

"No, just on dates."

"That seems... counter-productive."

"I don't go on a lot of dates, so it evens out."

Geddy senses a lie or, at least, something very wrong with the universe. "I can't imagine why."

"I'm a 'stay in and relax' kind of guy."

"Oh, me too," Geddy says with a smile, meticulously cutting his burger into tiny pieces.

"So you grew up here and moved to Toronto," John says, "and I grew up in Toronto and moved here."

"Why?"

"I asked first."

"No, you didn't," Geddy says coyly.

"I was working up to it."

That kind of persuasion shouldn't even work on Geddy, but John is cute, and it's not like Geddy's holding onto a deep, dark secret. "Well, people either love it in Victoria or they feel trapped."

John lifts his eyebrows. "I don't know how anyone could feel trapped here. The mainland is just a ferry ride away. Or you could go south to Washington. Or sail across the Pacific to Hawaii or Japan."

"Is that why you came here? That romantic, tourist-y notion of paradise?"

"Partly." John smiles like he's holding something back. "I like the idea of being so close to the sea. Maybe I was a sailor in another life." He takes an overeager bite of his burger, and he might actually moan a bit. "Oh, God, that's good," he says around the food in his mouth. He takes a moment to savor it, uses his ring finger to wipe away a glob of mayo at the corner of his lips.

Geddy chuckles to himself. "That's the one thing I miss about Victoria: the open water. My dad used to take me out on his boat for fishing trips. I was never that great at catching anything, but I liked being out on the water."

"How long has it been since your last visit?" John wonders.

"Two years. I show up every other year for my parents' harvest party."

"Right, the winemakers. I guess you didn't wanna follow in their footsteps, huh?"

"It's that obvious?" Geddy jokes. "No, I wanted something different for myself. Something more stable. I saw my family go through some tough harvests."

"So what'd you end up doing?"

"Nothing worth bragging about," Geddy says with a sad smirk. "I work at a music store. But I went to school for the arts. I wanna be a musician, but I also wanna write a novel. I'm leaning toward the novel 'cause it sounds easier. Less travel involved."

"An author, huh? One of my roommates teaches English at the university."

"How old is he?" Geddy's picturing some stuffy college professor with a huge white beard, a tobacco pipe, and a sweater vest.

"He's about your age, I guess. Give or take a few years."

"Wow, he's barely older than the students."

John laughs. "He grew a pretty gnarly mustache in an attempt to look more distinguished."

"Did it work?"

"Well, he looks a little older, so I guess it did."

"What about you? Let me guess: you're a doctor?" Geddy's working on the assumption this guy is more successful than him, judging by his choice of roommates.

John snickers and shakes his head.

"Lawyer?"

"Mechanic."

Geddy blinks. "I was way off."

"I own a repair shop downtown," John says, and, yep, still more successful than Geddy. "What made you think I was a doctor?"

Geddy shrugs, a little embarrassed. "I don't know. Just guessing."

"I do work with my hands, so you were half right." John smiles, and Geddy still can't believe someone this attractive is interested in him. "How long are you in town?"

"'Til next week."

"So if I wanted to see you again, would I have time?"

Geddy feels his face go hot, ducking his head to hide his smile. "Plenty."

With the pressure of securing a second date out of the way, they fall into a leisurely ease of conversation, and Geddy finds himself really liking John. He's smart, funny, witty, and certainly easy on the eyes. Geddy leaves the restaurant an hour later after giving John his number scribbled on a napkin, feeling like he could take on the world.

When Geddy gets home, he busies himself in the kitchen by helping Mom prepare dinner. Allan stays upstairs in his childhood bedroom; occasionally Geddy hears him shouting as though in conversation, probably on the phone with Nancy trading bitter resentment, or a friend with whom he can commiserate about his asshole brother.

No one says much of anything over dinner, as though there's a bomb strapped underneath the table, ready to detonate at the slightest snippy remark or unkind word. Dad and Allan compliment Mom's cooking, Mom asks Dad if the grapes come off the vines tonight, and Dad asks Geddy to help him with the grapes later.

Geddy is stricken with a pang of longing for his childhood, for a time before he and Allan were at war, before their animosity affected their parents too. Some families become toxic to each other after prolonged exposure. Is that what happened to them?

After dinner, Geddy and Dad venture to the northwest part of the property and clip ripe grape clusters from their vines. Truth be told, Dad doesn't need the help, doesn't even need to be out here himself; there's five extra pairs of hired hands out in the vineyard already, but Dad always seemed to know what Geddy needed and when, so here they are, away from the tension boiling around Allan.

When they're finished, Geddy retires to the yacht. The bathroom consists of a sink, a toilet, and an impossibly cramped shower stall. Geddy waits for the water to heat up, strips off his clothes, and squeezes inside. The sliding door still doesn't shut all the way, which means a puddle of water forms on the floor and soaks the bath mat on the other side of the glass. The shower head is pretty stingy with the water, so what would be a fifteen-minute shower ends up taking over thirty.

Geddy turns off the water and steps out. He wraps a towel around his hips and uses another to mop up the puddle on the floor. He wrings the water from his hair and opens the door.

Geddy's startled to see someone sitting in the salon room, but it's not Allan or either of his parents, but the blond thief from last night. He's brought along a box of wine bottles. He's wearing a silk shirt, jeans, and the forlorn expression of an abandoned puppy.

"What the hell are you doing on my boat?" Geddy screeches, hyper aware that he's standing here with only a glorified washcloth preventing him from being entirely naked and drippy in front of a gorgeous albeit irritating stranger. It doesn't help that his own physique resembles an uncooked breadstick that's been dropped on a dirty floor. "What part of 'don't come back' didn't you understand?"

"The 'don't' part." He grins, and his smile is warm and bright like the sun. "Look, I just wanted to give you these back and apologize in person." He slides the box of wine bottles onto his lap, perhaps using it as a barrier between himself and Geddy's anger. "I'm sorry."

The bottles in the box are some of the missing wines from the yacht. This gesture of repentance strikes Geddy as endearing, and he feels the strange urge to forgive this beautiful, sad stranger.

"Alright," Geddy sighs. "Just—wait outside while I get dressed, okay?"

Five minutes later, they're sitting in the salon and sharing a chilled bottle of Xanadu, a sweet white wine. Geddy's trying very hard to forget that this stranger has seen him almost-naked. "So what's your name?"

"Alex." He takes the glass Geddy offers him with long, delicate fingers. Geddy wonders if he's an artist.

"Geddy."

Alex doesn't laugh, though he does smile. But his smile is intoxicating, his lips impossibly perfect, so Geddy doesn't mind. "What nationality is that?"

Geddy shakes his head. "It's how my mother pronounces 'Gary.' It just stuck."

"Your parents are immigrants too?"

Geddy nods. "Poland."

"Serbia."

Geddy opens his mouth to say something like, "What do you think they'd say about you stealing from me?" but figures it wouldn't do much good. Instead, he swirls the wine in his glass and says, "I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't ask why you felt the need to steal from me."

"And what job is that?"

Geddy gives him a look to communicate that he won't be falling for Alex's evasive tactics.

"'Cause wine's expensive and I'm broke?" Alex offers with a smile that says he's not telling the whole story.

"Seems like you've been doing it for a while."

"Maybe it's the only thing I'm good at."

"Not that good. You got caught."

This, Geddy learns, was the wrong thing to say. Alex glances away, looking like Geddy's just punched him in the chest.

"Sorry. That was mean."

"No, you're right. I'm a screw-up."

"It's never too late to be something else." There's usually a right thing to say to a vulnerable person, and Geddy wants to suss it out. "What do you like doing?"

"Cooking. Painting." Alex shrugs like he can't come up with anything else. "Drinking."

"Well, there you go. There's lots of restaurants and craft fairs around here. Give it a shot."

"You don't even know if I'm any good."

"You have fun doing it, right?"

"So? You can like doing something but still suck at it."

"But if you enjoy it, you'll have fun getting better. And you don't need to be the best to be a success."

Alex looks at him, perplexed, and Geddy is momentarily stricken by how beautiful he is. He slides the wine bottle across the table, away from Geddy. "I think you've had enough."

Geddy chuckles. "My dad always told me success is measured by how well you figured out what you wanted for your life. What you needed to be happy."

"Are you? Happy?"

Geddy drags the bottle back and refills his glass. "We're not talking about me."

Alex pouts his perfect lips. Geddy's stubbornness drops away like it's been cut out of him.

"Okay. I'm not totally happy. But I'm working towards it."

Alex fingers the stem of his glass. Geddy tries not to stare or imagine what else those fingers could do. "Do you live around here?"

"I used to. I moved to Toronto when I was eighteen."

"That's where I'm from."

"So what brought you here?"

"My family used to vacation here when I was younger. I liked being so close to the water. And Victoria is full of tourists, so it was easy to—" Alex stops like he's said too much.

"Steal?"

Alex winces. "Yeah."

"You do it 'cause it's easy? It's not like an addiction?"

"I felt like I was good at it 'cause I never got caught. And I could sell whatever I took and make some money. No one ever knew."

"Until you stole from me," Geddy points out.

"This boat was never occupied all the other times I let myself in. What are the odds, y'know?"

Geddy wonders if that means something, if some cosmic force pushed him and Alex together. For what purpose? "So you're kinda like a modern-day pirate."

Alex huffs a laugh. "I have a crew and live on a boat, so, yeah, I guess I am."

"Are they pirates too?"

"No, they're way more successful. I don't know why they hang out with me."

"You seem like a likeable guy, once you get past the whole stealing thing."

"Yeah, aside from this one huge flaw, I'm okay," Alex says with a chuckle.

"People aren't the sum total of their poor choices. We're more than that."

"But what if your entire life is made of poor choices?"

Geddy holds his gaze. Alex's eyes are big and blue like the sea, and Geddy wants to drown in them. "I don't believe that. You came here to apologize and bring my wine back. You have friends you say are successful, so they must see something worthwhile in you."

"You don't even know me."

"If you were as bad as you think you are, you wouldn't have bothered bringing back my wine and apologizing. You wouldn't be here talking with me like you care."

"You seemed like a nice person," Alex says after a moment of contemplation. "You let me go."

"Yeah, I'm a real prince."

Alex takes a drink. "Do you get along with your parents?"

"For the most part. I'm in town for my family's harvest party, and my brother's here too. So there's a lot of tension."

"What did he do?"

"He's a petty, vindictive jerk who can't let go of a grudge. But so am I."

Alex seems to sense that he hasn't yet unlocked the proper friendship tier that would enable Geddy to continue. "Oh. For what it's worth, I don't think you're a jerk."

Geddy smiles.

"I couldn't wait to get away from my parents," Alex says, staring at the wine in his glass like it holds the secrets to the universe. "Nothing I did was ever good enough. My dad would be disappointed in me if I got second-degree burns." The corner of his mouth lilts into a melancholic smile. "Did you ever get the 'why can't you be more like your brother' line?"

"Sometimes."

"My sister set the bar too high. She was smart, popular, good at pretty much everything. I was an idiot who struggled through school and became the class clown so I wouldn't be as much of an outcast. I never finished high school 'cause my parents sorta kicked me out of the house."

"'Sorta'?"

Alex studies Geddy's face for a moment, as though debating whether to explain. Whatever he sees there must reassure him, because he says, "They found out I'm gay."

Geddy's heart leaps in his chest. "It's okay. I'm a little gay myself."

Alex smiles and glances away. "So I said screw them and moved here with my boyfriend."

Geddy tries to disguise the disappointment in his voice. "Oh." He doesn't do a very good job of it.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just—I was thinking about kissing you." Geddy's confidence is sky-high since his date with John, so he's taking advantage of this momentary brazenness. Who knows how much he's missed out on simply because he never asked?

Alex grins, and just watching his lips slide against his teeth is the sexiest thing Geddy's seen in a while. "You still can."

"What about your boyfriend?"

"He won't mind. He'd probably like to kiss you too." Before Geddy can question that, Alex lifts a hand to Geddy's cheek and kisses him. His fingers are damp with condensation from the wine glass, his mouth sweet and soft. Geddy gasps and swoons and pushes his hands into Alex's hair. Alex nips at Geddy's bottom lip, tongue licking inside of his mouth. His fingers trail down Geddy's chest, tracing over the skin exposed by the open collar of his shirt.

Geddy moans into Alex's mouth, and Alex's lips pull into a grin, his hand sliding under the front of Geddy's shirt. He is hard already, his erection straining absurdly inside his boxers. It's embarrassing, his body's overreaction to gentle touches, and he really hopes Alex doesn't notice the way his cock lifts his underwear into a tent like a prop. Alex's hand glides over Geddy's thigh. Geddy feels goosebumps prickle across his skin and squeezes his thighs together.

Alex finds him hard between his legs, grazes his palm over Geddy's cock. Geddy chokes out a sound of want and protestation against Alex's playful mouth.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Geddy says, taking a breath as their lips unlock. "We shouldn't—I think your boyfriend would have a problem with this."

"We have an open relationship, Geddy." God, his name sounds like poetry on Alex's lips. "It's okay."

Geddy sucks in a breath and tries to think about this rationally. He really doesn't want to be a third party here, but it's not like Alex is playing the 'we broke up ages ago' or 'he'll never find out' cards. And, sure, he could be lying about the openness of their relationship, but Geddy thinks it's meaningful that Alex even mentioned it at all.

Geddy looks at Alex, this gorgeous man inexplicably attracted to him, and decides, fuck it. If Alex is lying, it's his own damn fault. Geddy will plead total ignorance if this blows up in his face.

He covers Alex's mouth with his own, then they're kissing again, lips opening and closing in time with each other. Geddy rises to his knees, giving his erection some room to breathe, and Alex follows him. Alex plucks open the remaining buttons of Geddy's shirt, his fingers leaving grooves of heat across Geddy's skin. His tongue fits perfectly into the hollow of Geddy's throat. Alex kisses the pulse jumping in his neck while his hands skim over Geddy's sides, along his thighs.

Alex palms him through his boxers, and Geddy thinks he'll burn up from the twist of white-hot heat in his belly, then Alex's hand eases his dick out, and Geddy drops his head back and moans. Alex strokes him, slow and careful, and Geddy can't help but shove his hips into the slide of his fist. Alex catches Geddy's mouth, licking his lips with a grin as he watches Geddy's cock respond to him.

Geddy hasn't been touched like this in ages. Alex's fist squeezes and strokes, the pad of his thumb rubbing over the exposed, tender head of Geddy's cock. Tension pulls low and tight in his belly. Geddy drops his head against Alex's shoulder, his hands clutching at his back as he shudders and comes violently across Alex's fist and his own stomach. Alex's breath is warm against Geddy's neck while he strokes him through the comedown.

It occurs to Geddy that in the span of one day he's gone on a date with one attractive man and been jerked off and kissed by another. Today has been a very good day for his self-esteem.

Alex's hand is filthy with jizz, and he lifts his fingers to his mouth for a taste, licking them clean the same way Geddy might lick a cake batter-smeared spatula.

"Your boyfriend is a lucky guy," Geddy says in awe.

Alex snickers, smacking his lips. "You could be too."

Geddy's not even going to try to untangle that one. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I could introduce you two, and if you hit it off, we could all be together."

"Are you inviting me into a threesome?" Because it really sounds like that's exactly what just happened.

Alex laughs. "Well, yes and no. It's not just about sex. It's a three-way relationship."

Nothing remotely like this has ever happened to Geddy before. It's a rare occasion one person likes him enough to kiss him, let alone two. Of course, there's always the possibility this is all one huge joke at Geddy's expense, but two actual, live men expressed interest in him today, and Geddy thinks that's a cause for optimism.

"Okay, well, I wanna meet him first. Make sure he's okay with this."

"Are you busy tomorrow?"

"Not really. Just dinner with the family."

Alex frowns. "Aw."

Geddy panics, worried he made himself sound like a virginal loser unworthy of being invited into Alex's inner circle of sex parties. "What?"

"I really wanted to cook for you," Alex says, blushing. "But if you're already having dinner..."

"How 'bout lunch?" Geddy's only real household task tomorrow is helping Mom prepare the family dinner, but Allan can make himself useful for once and help her instead. Mom won't mind if Geddy has other social obligations.

"That works out much better!"

"What time should I come by?"

"My place is kinda hard to find, so how 'bout I stop here around two or so?"

"Sure."

Alex smiles, suddenly shy, and lays his hands on Geddy's shoulders, bringing him closer for a kiss.

Lost in the bliss of Alex's kisses, Geddy is entirely unaware that a third person has entered the cabin. His eyes are closed, his senses finely tuned to the sweet, hot sphere of Alex's lips, so he's oblivious to the intrusion until he hears Allan's voice: "Geddy, what the fuck?"

They break apart as Geddy, too late, tucks his flaccid cock back into his boxers. "Maybe knock first before you come barging in?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't expect you to be in here banging some guy after being in town for two days." Allan doesn't sound sorry at all.

"We weren't _banging_ ," Geddy says, because that's a gross exaggeration of what happened here.

"Is this your brother?" Alex pipes up. He looks at Allan and smiles. "Hi, I'm Alex. I'm a friend of Geddy's."

Allan's face is a study in grumpiness.

"Did you not know your brother likes guys?" The Weinrib brothers are built on passive-aggressive sniping and a failure to communicate properly. Alex's attempt to pick at the scabs of their resentment demonstrates a dangerous cultural ignorance.

"His face is very red," Alex whispers to Geddy. "Is he breathing?"

"So you're gay now?" Allan says, looking at Geddy.

Geddy rolls his eyes. There's no point in explaining the many intricacies of sexual orientation. "Sure. Why not? I needed a change."

Allan huffs a bitter noise. "I wonder what Mom would think about this."

"Oh my God, how old are you? Are you seriously this upset that I like guys, or is this really about your loser brother having a sex life while your marriage is on the rocks?"

Allan fumes, his fists clenched, looking like he wants to put Geddy through the wall. He shakes his head and turns away, slamming the cabin door as he leaves. Geddy hears his angry footsteps on the deck.

"It's totally about that, isn't it?" Alex says. He looks at Geddy sheepishly. "Should I go? If he's gonna tell your parents, I shouldn't be around." Alex moves to slide off the couch, but Geddy stops him with a hand.

"No, you can stay if you want. He's not gonna say anything. And if he does, what're they gonna do, ground me? I'm an adult. I don't even live here anymore."

"You're sure?" Alex looks terrified, and Geddy can only imagine what must have happened to him.

"Yeah, it's alright. I promise."

This seems to assure Alex, because the fear slides off his face, replaced with a small smile. "Can I just..." He points a thumb in the direction of the bathroom.

"Paying customers only," Geddy says, struggling to keep a straight face.

Alex laughs and playfully slaps Geddy's arm. "Jerk." He moves off the couch and stands up, then: "Wait, you were joking, right?"

"Yes, of course."

Geddy chuckles to himself and refills their glasses as Alex shuts the door behind him.

* * *

Alex splashes water on his face and tries to calm the panicked trip of his pulse. That could have been really fucking awful. He wants to trust Geddy, but they've already been discovered once, and there are few things Alex fears more than misdirected parental anger. How does Geddy know for sure his brother won't say anything? Or that his parents won't come charging down here to chew him out? This could get dangerous, and if Alex is gone Geddy at least has plausible deniability.

He washes his hands, his face again for good measure, and focuses on the sound of the water blasting into the porcelain sink as the adrenaline ebbs from his veins.

After a minute or two, Alex emerges from the tiny room. Geddy has refilled their glasses, obviously expecting him to stay. It'll be a shame to let him down, but Geddy is sweet and caring and seems like he might understand.

"Hey," Alex starts nervously, wiping his palms on the front of his jeans. "I'm actually gonna call it a night. Is that okay?"

Geddy blinks. "Yeah. You still... Do you still wanna see me tomorrow?"

"Of course." Alex smiles, like he can't imagine how Geddy could ever think otherwise. "I'll feel a lot safer on my home turf, y'know?"

Geddy nods, looking frustrated that his brother's intrusion has cut their evening short. "I get it. I don't blame you."

A wave of relief crashes over Alex. He has always fallen for men who are good to him. He kisses the top of Geddy's head, inhales the fruity scent of his shampoo. "You're sweet. I'll see you tomorrow."

When Alex returns to the Rocinante, he finds Neil asleep on the couch with a paperback folded over his chest, his lips parted as he snores gently. Careful not to wake him, Alex creeps downstairs to the guestroom he shares with John. He takes a quick shower before sliding into bed with him, and though Alex tries to be discreet, John wakes up and rolls over to face him.

"There you are," John murmurs, throwing an arm around Alex's waist and tucking him up closer. "Where'd you sneak off to tonight?"

"My secret boyfriend's. We had sex, drank, did drugs. All the debauchery your parents warned you about." Alex grins, and John rolls so he's on top of him, claiming his smirky mouth.

"You've got a secret boyfriend, too?"

"Mhm," Alex hums arounds John's kisses. "And he's coming by tomorrow for lunch, so be on your best behavior."

"No dick jokes?"

"He's willing to have actual dicks inside of him, so I think he can handle a couple jokes."

John nips at Alex's chin before capturing his mouth again. "So where'd you meet this guy?"

Alex holds John's face at bay so he can get the words out. "Remember the guy I told you about last night? I brought back some of the bottles I took from him and apologized. He was really sweet about it. We drank a bit and made out. His name's Geddy. He's a good kisser."

"Geddy, huh? I think we might have the same secret boyfriend," John says with a chuckle.

"Really? Long hair, kinda skinny? His parents own the vineyard in Oak Bay?"

John laughs. "Oh my God. It's the same guy. This is some Three's Company shit."

"Are you serious?" Alex's face hurts from smiling. "He's gonna freak. How'd you guys meet?"

"We both thought this cucumber in the produce section at the market looked like a dick."

Alex snorts in a way he'd feel self-conscious about if John were anyone else. "So dick jokes are definitely on the table."

John rests a hand over the erection swelling in Alex's boxers. He kisses down Alex's chest until his tongue finds a nipple, and he holds it gently between his teeth. Alex squirms, already breathless, his legs opening wider in a silent plea for more. John's mouth is slow and worshipful over Alex's skin, and when he finally slides down and glides his cock past his lips, Alex is already seeing stars.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic has a fanmix! http://8tracks.com/sodium-amytal/beyond-the-sea

"Your brother is being very petty by telling me what you do in your spare time," Mom says when Geddy pads into the kitchen the next morning, making him almost drop the carton of orange juice onto the hardwood floor.

"What did he tell you?"

"He said he caught you with another man in a delicate situation."

Geddy huffs an angry noise. What an immature little shit Allan is, tattling on his brother like they're in kindergarten. "Does it bother you?"

"It bothers me that my eldest son, with a mortage and a marriage, still feels the need to tattle on his brother."

 _Thank you,_ Geddy wants to say with dramatic flair. He settles for a self-righteous smirk.

"But it also bothers me that my boys keep indulging in their hate and anger toward each other well into their adulthood."

Geddy stays silent. He pours himself a glass of juice and plucks a fresh blueberry muffin from its glass prison atop the kitchen island.

"Allan is too proud to extend an olive branch," Mom says.

"And I'm not?"

"I think you crave reconciliation more than he does. Enough to want to make peace."

Mom definitely knows what's up.

"I've already apologized to him," Geddy says. "Many times. Over and over. Why should I waste my breath? It was like ten years ago. There's gotta be a statute of limitations on this, right? And he's the one who waited five years to get back at me. You know who else waits that long? Psychopaths."

Mom rolls her eyes with affection. "I think you're embellishing just a bit."

"Fine," Geddy says, sitting on a stool at the island. "But when he ends up as the top story on the evening news, remember that I warned you."

"You know it's rude to talk about people behind their back," Allan says from the top of the stairs. He descends the staircase, and Geddy hopes one of the wooden stairs breaks and sends him crashing down to the wine cellar.

"So I really shouldn't be surprised you cried to Mom that I kissed a boy."

"Can you two please try to be civil to each other?" Mom pleads. "It breaks my heart to hear you fight like this."

"It doesn't break your heart that Ged's a huge queer?" Allan says. Then: "Well, you always did want a daughter."

"Dick," Geddy sneers.

"Allan, dear, you're certainly being catty enough to qualify," Mom says, and Geddy sort of chokes on his juice. "And, no, it doesn't bother me what Geddy does, as long as he's happy and being safe. If you put as much dedication into your marriage as you do towards your brother's unhappiness, maybe things would have turned out better for you."

That is the sickest burn Mom's ever doled out, and Geddy's a little in awe of it.

"Nancy left me," Allan blurts out, and the entire house seems to fall silent, amplifying his words.

But Allan is only admitting this to stop Mom's stream of criticism, so Geddy feels justified in having a laugh at his expense.

"Wow. Karma is real."

"Geddy," Mom says sternly, and Geddy goes silent. Mom looks at Allan and promptly hugs him, rubbing his back. "I'm so sorry. Did you just find out?"

Allan takes a moment too long to answer. "Yeah."

"Bullshit," Geddy says. "You're here _because_ she left you."

"Geddy, don't antagonize him."

But Geddy's on a roll. "You brought two suitcases, so you plan on staying here a while. My guess is she kicked you out of the house, either because you cheated or she's realized what an ass you are."

"And you're just a perfect angel, huh?" Allan sneers. "Isn't that why Nancy chose me over you?"

"Color me surprised a marriage built on lies and deception didn't last." Geddy turns back to the table so he can eat.

"As long as you're under my roof, no fighting in the house," Mom says, her voice raised.

Geddy's already done with this conversation, so he stays quiet. Allan sulks into the kitchen and prepares himself a plate of muffins. Neither of them speak to each other until Geddy's finished with breakfast and getting up to rinse off the dishes.

"Allan, it's your turn to help Mom with dinner tonight. I have a date."

"Fine," Allan says, sounding for all the world like he wants nothing more than to set Geddy on fire.

* * *

This is what happens. You are an awkward, unpopular fifteen-year-old with a brother your parents can't stop raving about like they're amazed one of their children is capable of anything other than disappointing them. You're the youngest, so naturally you feel the need to live up to the impossibly high standards your parents have for you, courtesy of your older brother. Eventually you grow to resent him, so when a group of popular kids who push you around in the halls offer their friendship on the condition you get Allan to meet them on the baseball field after school, you sell your brother out. Deep down, you knew something bad would happen to him, but you wanted to fit in and be liked, and without this opportunity for initiation into their circle you're just another geeky underclassman with an ass to kick.

You didn't yet know that this act of betrayal and jealousy would plant the seeds of revenge in Allan's fertile mind. You're just determined to lash out at him for how effortlessly he earns high test scores and your parents' love.

You were fifteen years old, and your brother never forgave you.

And you never forgave yourself.

* * *

Alex shows up at Geddy's boat around two in the afternoon. Geddy looks brilliant and beautiful in a white t-shirt with blue jeans so tight they might as well be painted on his body. As Alex jogs onto the dock, Geddy smiles like Alex is the only person he's ever wanted to see.

"Hey," Alex says, slightly breathless, before leaning in and stealing a quick kiss. "I hope you're hungry."

"I hear you're a good cook."

"I guess we'll find out."

They take the bus north into the Uplands where the Rocinante is docked, passing by houses more beautiful and extravagant than Alex will ever be able to afford, each with neatly-trimmed green and pink hedges and lawns. These flagrant demonstrations of wealth fill Alex with shame, because his houseboat might be impressive to look at, but he knows he didn't actually earn it or even buy it himself.

"So you live on a boat?" Geddy asks, as though reading Alex's mind. "What's that like?"

"It's different." So basically a non-answer. Alex tries to elaborate. "Sometimes we'll go far out on the water and sleep there under the stars. I like it. It's nice to soak in your own cosmic insignificance every once in a while; it reminds me my mistakes don't matter that much in the grand scheme of things."

Geddy smiles and nods like someone who has a long history of struggling with self-esteem issues. "You're too hard on yourself. But I know how you feel. I think you're doing great, though."

This intrinsic understanding is one of the reasons why Alex finds himself falling for Geddy. Geddy _knows_. John is loving and supportive, but he doesn't grasp the concept of feeling like any goodness you ever had has spilled out of you and there's no way to get it back. John never grappled with his sexual identity or endured bullying by his peers; hell, he was the star player on their high school's hockey team. John loves who he is because no one gave him a reason to feel otherwise.

Geddy, on the other hand, has seen some shit. So for him to recognize something of worth in Alex is huge.

"Did you get in any trouble for last night?" Alex asks.

Geddy shakes his head. "My mom doesn't care. I'm not sure about Dad, but he didn't say anything about it. So maybe he doesn't care either."

"That's good." Alex rubs his arm. "I wouldn't want you to get in trouble 'cause of me."

"It would'a been worth it. I don't seem 'em that much anyway."

"Why not?"

"You saw my brother, right? We kinda hate each other."

Maybe Alex is pushing this too far. Geddy might have perfectly valid reasons to hate his brother.

"I just... I dunno, I think it would be nice to have parents who support you, is all."

Geddy goes quiet, considering this.

The bus stops near the yacht club, and Alex leads Geddy to the dock where the Rocinante is moored. Geddy's glancing around at all the boats, completely oblivious that Alex's boat is the enormous monstrosity in front of them until Alex points it out.

Geddy's jaw drops. "Wow. That is... That's yours?"

"Yep! It's even bigger on the inside."

"I'm trying to ignore the elephant in the room, but it's not working. Are you compensating for something here?"

"You play your cards right and maybe you'll find out." Alex winks and leads him onto the main deck.

Neil's sitting on one of the couches in the lounge, wearing ridiculous khaki shorts and a polo shirt, looking every bit the part of someone who owns a houseboat. He glances up from the book he's reading when Alex and Geddy approach.

"Neil, this is Geddy," Alex announces proudly. "Geddy, Neil."

They shake hands.

"Nice to meet you," Geddy says, sounding nervous. "So you're the boyfriend I've been hearing so much about."

Alex laughs, and Neil snickers good-humoredly beneath his wild mustache. "In Alex's dreams, maybe. You're thinking of John."

"Who's thinking about me?" John says, emerging from below deck with a beer in hand. "Is it dirty? Is there food involved?"

Geddy turns in the direction of the voice, and John grins at him.

"Hey, you! I guess we're having that second date after all, huh?"

Geddy gapes, looking from John to Alex for an explanation.

"You didn't tell him?" John says to Alex. "You little devil."

Alex shrugs. "I wanted it to be a surprise."

"He's definitely surprised," John says.

Alex turns to Geddy, who looks like he's having trouble processing the idea that Alex and John know each other. "John tells me you two have already met?"

"Yeah," Geddy stammers out. "We did." He seems to be questioning the hell out of this, which Alex can't really blame him for, because it's a pretty huge coincidence. "Did you two plan this somehow?"

"Sometimes things just come together perfectly," John says, moving closer and slinging his free arm over Geddy's shoulders. "And hopefully the three of us will too."

Alex sighs, because it hasn't even been a full minute and John's already breaking out the sex jokes. "Pace yourself. Don't use all your best material in the first five minutes."

John chuckles and gives Alex a quick peck on the lips. His mouth is plush and soft and tastes like cheap beer. "You know I'm only good for five minutes anyway."

"Including foreplay," Alex teases in a whisper before turning his attention back to Geddy. "Ged, is this still okay with you?"

"Yeah. I like both you guys. I'm glad I don't have to choose between you."

"It would'a been Alex, right?" John asks, curious and light-hearted. "You look like the type to go for sensitive artist boys."

Geddy lifts an eyebrow, giving John a once-over. "So why did you ask me out, Count Jockula?"

John laughs a hearty sound. "Oh my God, this is perfect; you and Alex have the exact same sense of humor. And to answer your question: why not? You're cute, and you seemed like you dug me."

Geddy doesn't have an answer for that, just blushes and tries to hide his smile.

The three of them sit on the couch opposite Neil to give him space. John cuddles up to Alex, and Alex pulls Geddy against him, his arm draped over his shoulders.

"How long have you two been together?" Geddy asks.

"About eight years, I think," Alex says. "We met in grade 9, so we've known each other for ten."

"God, it's been that long?" John says, teasing.

Alex rolls his eyes with a smile and rubs his free hand over John's thigh.

"How'd you meet? Did you share a class?"

"No, John was a year ahead of me," Alex says. "He played on our school's hockey team."

"I always noticed him checking me out in the stands," John adds. "So I asked him on a date."

Alex feels the need to clarify. "He asked me to skip class with him and smoke pot."

"Not a bad first date," Geddy says.

John tips his beer bottle toward Geddy. "You want a drink?"

"Should I? Do I need to be a little drunk to enjoy where this is going?"

"It always helps around John," Alex jokes, stealing the bottle for himself and taking a long gulp. He hands the bottle to Geddy, pays careful attention to the way Geddy's throat moves when he swallows, the way his lips wrap perfectly around the mouth.

Neil offers to take the boat out onto the water, of which Alex vehemently approves. While Neil pilots the boat, the remaining three exchange questions and answers.

"So how'd you get such a nice boat?" Geddy wonders.

"I bought it cheap at an auction," John says. "It was pretty busted up, but Alex and I got it running again and remodeled it."

"Really? Alex tells me he's not good at anything."

John grins and holds Alex tighter. "He's modest. And sometimes totally oblivious to how great he is." He snaps his fingers. "Oh, Ged, that's right, you haven't seen Alex's paintings! They're amazing!"

Alex feels his face flush. "No, babe, c'mon, he's not drunk enough yet."

"I wanna see," Geddy says, soft and timid, looking at Alex. "If it's okay with you."

Geddy has been nothing but kind to him, and Alex fears he'll placate him with socially obligated ass-pats, but he's equally afraid of being told he's no good.

"Okay, if you really want to."

Alex leads him downstairs to the lower level. Two of Alex's paintings hang in the salon room, one above the couch and the other hanging over the fireplace.

"This is yours?" Geddy asks, stepping closer to examine one of the paintings. "It's really beautiful."

Alex doesn't think it's anything special, just a painting of horses you could easily find in any doctor's office waiting room, but Geddy seems to appreciate it. Who is Alex to tell him he's wrong?

"You use really vibrant colors," Geddy says. "And good sense of movement."

The second painting is a still life of wine bottles and French bread loaves. Basically an alternate take on the typical first-year art student assignment of painting a bowl of fruit.

But Geddy doesn't see it that way at all. "Wow! Look at that lighting!"

"I know, right?" John says. "Shiny bread."

Alex groans, because he can't unsee how plastic and fake that bread looks. It's the one thing everyone points out when they see it, and he kind of wants to burn the damn painting so people stop bringing it up.

"I love it," Geddy says. "It looks all buttery."

"You're probably just hungry," Alex says, trying humor.

"He hates this one," John points out lovingly to Geddy. "I don't know why."

"'Cause it looks fake."

"Art doesn't have to be super-realistic to be good," Geddy says. "It's a representation of something real, but it can take any form or style to get the point across. It's not like nobody can tell what you were trying to show."

"Bread isn't shiny," Alex says.

"It can be if you glaze it or butter it."

"Yeah, Mr. Chef," John teases.

"And you took the exaggerated lighting concept and applied it to the bottles, too," Geddy continues. "It's unrealistic, but you've applied it across the board, so it works."

"It's cohesive," John says, repeating a critique he heard from Neil.

"Okay," Alex says, rolling his eyes with a smile, "maybe it's not _total_ garbage." He's still uncomfortable with praise, mostly because he doesn't think he deserves it, that it's a rug that will be swept out from under him with a laugh.

"If your work was garbage, Neil wouldn't have one of your paintings hanging over his bed," John points out. "And neither would I." He weaves an arm around Alex's waist. "I dunno about Ged, but I'm starved. You wanna get cooking?"

"Oh, um, sure. Ged, any suggestions?"

Geddy blinks, looking put on the spot. "Um, I don't wanna be picky. It's your house... boat."

Alex chuckles. "You're the guest. And if you don't suggest something, John will claim your indifference is a vote in favor of his bacon-wrapped beer cheese meatloaf. And nobody wants that for the _third_ time this week."

John just sighs like Alex is being unreasonable.

"Oh. Well, how about steak?"

"That's perfect. You don't mind if I fancy it up, do you?"

"You're the chef."

While Alex pulls ingredients out of the fridge and cupboards, John and Geddy commandeer the U-shaped seating area by the galley and dig into the icy bucket of beer on the table.

"So, Ged," John says, twisting open a bottle and handing it to Geddy, "what'd'ya think? Isn't he great?"

Alex blushes and smiles to himself, staying quiet to hear Geddy's response.

"Yeah, Alex is... really special."

Oh hell. Alex is very familiar with that nervously cordial tone Geddy's using right now. Is there something Geddy doesn't like about him? Is he too self-deprecating? Too reliant on jokes?

"I hear a 'but'," John says.

Geddy squirms in his seat, takes a drink to buy himself time for a response.

"You can tell us if something's bothering you."

Geddy toys with the ice-softened label on the bottle. "It's not you. I mean, it's not your fault. I just... You guys have a really solid relationship. You've known each other for ten years, and I'm kinda the third wheel. And eventually I'm gonna get edged out."

That was not at all what Alex expected to hear. He abandons his work in the galley and leans over the back of the couch. "No, no, Ged, that's not gonna happen. We like you a lot. And we'll make sure you're included and don't feel left out."

"I guess you have to understand where I'm coming from," Geddy says, still fidgeting with the label. "When I was fifteen, I was jealous of my brother. A group of bullies asked me to get him to come to the baseball field after school. I figured they were gonna beat him up, which I kinda wanted to do anyway. So I told him some girl he liked wanted to meet him there. He went, and..."

Geddy shakes his head as though willing away a memory.

"I don't know what they did to him," he continues. "But whatever it was, he kept it inside and plotted revenge for the next five years. By the time he acted on it, I had kind of forgotten about it. I mean, you don't _forget_ , but you figure after five years he's moved on and forgiven you."

John rubs Geddy's arm, offering comfort or urging him to continue. Usually it's a mix of both.

"Anyway, I had been dating this girl Nancy for about a month or two. Allan knew that I loved her. She was my first girlfriend, so it was really special. One day Allan told her about what I did back then. She called me that night and told me I was a horrible person, that I'd lied to her."

"Lied how?" Alex wonders.

Geddy shrugs. "The three of us were friends, so I guess she felt betrayed that I was friendly with him. Or that I should've mentioned it at some point. I think Allan told her I never apologized, which was a lie. But all of it was bad enough for her to break up with me."

John frowns. "And she just believed this guy? She never considered maybe he had ulterior motives?"

"Maybe whatever he said was really convincing. I figure he lied about a lot of things to scare her away from me. And it's not like she knew me _that_ well." Geddy takes another drink. "And Allan looks like a concerned friend, not a sleazeball. If he looked like John—"

"Hey," John whines in protest.

"All muscley and good-looking, maybe she would have been a little suspicious."

"I'm flattered you said I'm good-looking, but a little hurt you think that means sleazeball."

Geddy's face heats up in chagrin. "I didn't mean it like that."

Alex lovingly smacks the back of John's head. "Don't act so innocent. You're greasy, but I love you." He focuses on Geddy, who looks like just talking about this has torn him up inside. "Ged, that's not gonna happen here. We won't make you feel left out. Just ask Neil; he's pretty much part of our family, except for the sex and the kissing stuff. But he's more of an introvert, so he doesn't always wanna do stuff with us."

"I'm kinda introverted too," Geddy says, like it's a realization.

"See? You may not wanna do something, but we'll always try to include you. And no one's gonna steal anyone away from anyone else. We're open."

"Why?" Geddy asks. "I mean, what made you guys want to..." He can't seem to find an end for that sentence, but Alex gets the jist of it.

"Well, when we met Neil, John and I kinda joked about it, and we realized it was something both of us were interested in. We've been kinda... looking for the right person. Three feels like a good number, y'know? Any more and I think I'd be spreading myself too thin."

John drops his head back to look at Alex's face. "You know I get all tingly when you talk about spreading yourself."

Alex snorts a laugh and gives him a playful shove. "I'm really surprised we found another person who appreciates this idiot's low-brow humor," he says to Geddy.

John ignores the loving jab. "Ged, are you gonna tell Alex that you're only in town 'til next week? Or were you just gonna have your fun and leave?"

Geddy's eyes pop open, panic crossing his face. "No, no, I was just... I don't know. I guess I could stay longer. Or forever. I like living in Toronto, but I like you guys too, and honestly this is a lot more promising than what I have back home."

"What's back home?" Alex asks.

"A job I could take or leave. A crappy apartment."

Alex pretends to be weighing each option in his hands. "Crappy apartment. Houseboat. Crappy apartment..."

John curls a hand around Alex's wrist to stop him. Alex smiles sheepishly, resenting himself for wanting Geddy to stay so badly. He hasn't felt this way about anyone since John.

"It wouldn't be fair to get you guys' hopes up and then leave," Geddy says. He chews his lower lip in thought, and Alex wants to bite that lip himself. "Maybe you guys should come with me tomorrow to my parents' harvest party."

Alex can't help but let a laugh bubble out. "Okay, sure. Remember how pissed off your brother was when he caught us?"

"Well, he'll behave himself or else my parents will have something to say about it."

"Your parents are cool with you dating guys?" John asks.

"Well, a guy. Singular. And I'm not sure about my dad, but he's always seemed like he cared more about my finances and job security than my love life." Geddy takes another long drink. Alex feels parched just looking at him. "But I can introduce John as my friend and Alex as my boyfriend, and we'll see how it goes."

John has a problem with this plan. "How come he gets to be your boyfriend?"

"'Cause his brother caught me with Geddy," Alex reminds him. "Wait, what am I supposed to say when they ask how you know me? Or what I do for a living? I can't say I'm a fucking pirate."

"Yeah, I'd probably leave that part out," Geddy advises. "You could tell them you're a painter! It's not like it's a lie. Or you're going through a career transition."

"Also not a lie," John points out.

"He'll probably ask a lot more questions than that," Alex says.

"Then just make shit up. Pretend the job you dream about is already yours."

Alex chooses not to argue with that, mainly because he doesn't know what the hell his dream job _is_.

"You haven't started cooking yet?" Neil grouses, coming down the stairs from the deck. "Some of us are starving."

You can't help but love Neil, even when he's being grumpy.

"Sorry," Alex says, not sorry at all as he flits back into the galley. "It's like everyone on this ship would starve without me."

"You cook, you clean; you're like a big, gay Mary Poppins," John says.

"Complete with unwavering optimism," Neil says, sliding into the booth to join Geddy and John.

While Alex butterflies the steak, he eavesdrops on Geddy and Neil's conversation.

"So what's an English professor doing living on a boat with two other guys?"

Neil chuckles. "I wasn't a professor when I started living here. I was pretty broke, putting myself through school. I worked at the auto shop John owns now. After I got kicked out of my last place, John and I got to talking and he invited me aboard. Not having rent to pay sealed the deal."

Alex sneaks a peek at Geddy, who's making his frowny anxious face and probably fretting over Neil being an early adopter into their inner circle.

"You guys've known each other a while, huh?" Geddy tries in vain to hide the nervousness in his voice.

"Ged, relax," Alex says, mixing together the filling for the steak. "You're one of us, and seniority means nothing here."

Geddy squirms in his seat. "I still feel like an outsider."

"Think of it this way: you're new and exciting, so we're gonna pay a lot of attention to you." Alex grins at him, earning a small smile. "But I get it if you don't feel comfortable. At least stay for lunch, then if you still have second thoughts about this you can bow out."

"Okay." Geddy is so shy and lovely, and Alex wants to spend the rest of his life making him feel whole. Shit, is that how John feels about Alex? Alex can't imagine himself inspiring such strong emotions in someone, but Geddy probably can't either.

The four of them play poker while the steak cooks in the oven, and Alex learns Geddy has a competitive streak to rival his own. Alex eats most of his winnings, so Geddy wins through his ability to resist tasty, salty cashews.

When the steak has cooled, Geddy—their resident wine expert—helps them pick a wine pairing for the meal. He also raves over Alex's cooking ability in a way that's a little embarrassing.

"This is amazing," Geddy says, his mouth half full. "How come you don't think you're any good?"

John leans over and says, "My theory is he doesn't have taste buds."

"Of course I have taste buds, you fool."

"So is that why you're always sneaking pineapple into my food?" John says with a wink.

Geddy sort of chokes. His entire face goes red when he blushes, and Alex adores it.

Alex shakes his head like he cannot believe the shit that comes out of his boyfriend's mouth sometimes.

"This is pretty much par for the course with them," Neil informs Geddy.

Geddy doesn't seem like he knows how to answer that. He cuts his steak into tiny pieces and says, "Well, Alex, you're a really good cook. Have you ever thought about doing it professionally?"

Now it's Alex's turn to blush. "Oh, jeez, well, John's always saying I should."

"But he never listens to me," John says, twisting open another beer.

"Or me," Neil adds. "And I'm a professor."

Alex laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck underneath his hair. "Okay, guys, what is this, Gang Up On Alex Day?"

"Gang _bang_ , maybe," John mutters loud enough for everyone to hear. Alex kicks him underneath the table. "What? That's why Geddy's here, right?"

Geddy tilts his head, his expression unreadable. "That's... kind of sweet. No one's ever invited me into a threesome before."

John ignores the scowl Alex is giving him and looks at Geddy. "Really?"

"You sound surprised," Geddy chuckles. "Do I look like the kind of guy who gets regularly invited to orgies?"

"I don't know your life, man. You could be."

Alex huffs and kicks John's shin again. "Babe, can I talk to you for a minute?"

John seems to understand that he's in trouble. "Of course," he says, putting on his demure face and following Alex into their room at the end of the boat.

Alex shuts the door and folds his arms over his chest, doing his best to convey that John is in Very Big Trouble, Mister. "Look, honey, I love your dirty jokes, but maybe the best time for them _isn't_ when we have company."

"Geddy and I met through a dick-shaped cucumber," John chortles. "And he's down for being in a relationship with us. Somehow I doubt he's as prudish as you think."

"I know, I know, I just..." Alex rakes his hands through his gnarly curls. He's not explaining this properly, but for John to understand he's going to have to hurt him a little. And Alex really doesn't like hurting John.

Alex takes a breath and starts over. "I really, really like Geddy," he says, carefully taking John's hands in his own. "When I talked with him last night... He gets me in a way I don't think you ever could."

John's brow creases, and, oh no, there's the sad puppy face. This is exactly what Alex was hoping to avoid.

"I mean, he knows what it's like to never feel good enough. To be an outcast. For God's sake, you were the hockey team all-star. Rejection is a foreign concept to you. And that doesn't mean I love you any less, but you're never gonna understand me on that level. Geddy does, so I don't wanna scare him off or make him think this is all about sex. I know that's probably stupid and I'm worrying too much—"

John pushes the wooly fringe off of Alex's forehead and kisses the skin beneath, effectively shutting him up under the tenderness of the gesture. "No, it's not stupid. I like him too. He's good for you." He lifts a hand to Alex's cheek and settles it there. His thumb plays at the corner of Alex's mouth, and Alex is tempted to suck on it, but he knows where that will lead. "I'm sorry I was gross. I'll be good, I promise."

"Not _too_ good," Alex says with a smirk.

When Alex and John make it back to the table, Geddy and Neil are laughing at something Neil said. Well, Geddy's laughing. Neil's just sort of chuckling, which is how he responds to most humorous things. Outright laughter is usually reserved for when he's been drinking pretty heavily.

"Tell them the joke," Geddy says to Neil, still giggling.

"They've heard it," Neil assures him.

Alex drops into his seat. "Neil, are you telling Geddy grammar jokes? You know he's only laughing to be polite, right?"

"'Two consecutive sentences!'" Geddy crows.

"Or he's drunk. You'd think a guy who grew up on a vineyard could hold his liquor better."

The rest of the meal passes by without incident. John behaves himself, and Alex notices Geddy's body language thaw in warm reception to his new friends. Geddy helps Alex clean up the kitchen when they're finished eating, despite Alex's constant reassurances that Geddy is a guest here and doesn't need to trouble himself.

Later, Neil guides the boat back to port, and the remaining three lounge around the deck, enjoying the soft breeze. Geddy's leaning against John's shoulder, his legs slung across Alex's lap.

The sun has begun to set, painting the sky with streaks of orange and pink. The ocean sparkles under the glare, like thousands of tiny crystals shimmering on top of the lazy waves.

"This is my favorite time of day," Alex says. "I love looking out there and wondering how far the ocean goes."

"I used to think about sailing as far away as I could," Geddy says. "Maybe I'd find someplace better."

"Doesn't matter where you go," John chimes in. "You're still you."

Geddy twists his head to look at him. "Then why'd you leave Toronto?"

"I go where Alex goes."

Geddy is quiet for a moment, then he says, "You guys know where the vineyard is, right? 'Cause you guys can come tomorrow night if you want. Neil too. If he's not busy."

Alex grins, unable to contain his excitement that Geddy wants to continue what they've got going here. "Do we have to dress up? Should I dress up? Would that make a good first impression?"

"It's not really fancy. But you can if you want."

"Damn, I guess I have to wear something with sleeves," John complains, plucking at his tanktop, which is actually a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off.

"That would probably be a good idea."

When the boat glides into port, Geddy seems disappointed that their date has come to an end. "I'd love to stay longer, but I promised my parents I'd be home for dinner."

John lifts an eyebrow at Alex. "Whoa, déjà vu." This earns him a gentle punch in the arm.

Geddy asks, "You'll, uh, you'll come, right?" Then, as if remembering John's penchant for dirty jokes: "To the party, I mean."

John doesn't let that stop him. "Yes and yes."

"We'll be there," Alex says. "There's gonna be booze, right?"

"What do you think?" Geddy volleys back with a flirty smile.

"Alright, I'll get my drinking hat on. Figuratively. I don't actually have a designated drinking hat."

Geddy chuckles, and Alex isn't sure if the laughter is with him or at him, but, hey, he'll take it.


	4. Chapter 4

"So how was your date?" Allan asks with thinly-veiled contempt the next morning as he, Mom, and Geddy work in the kitchen to prepare the food for tonight's party. Mom's recipe cards are laid out across the polished granite countertop; Geddy toils over a huge pot of macaroni and cheese, Mom works on breading fish filets, and Allan prepares a pan of eggplant parmesan.

"Fine," Geddy says tersely, unwilling to allow Allan any insight into his life or another opportunity to double-cross him. But Mom clears her throat in a meaningful way, so Geddy says, "I invited him and his roommates to the party. But they probably won't show up."

"Why not?" Mom asks.

Geddy shrugs, steals a gulp of the wine spritzer he mixed up earlier. "I dunno. They probably think I'm a huge nerd."

"Maybe if you weren't such a bummer all the time, people would like you," Allan says in his 'trying to be helpful' voice. "Confidence goes a long way."

Geddy snorts a derisive sound. "Oh, is that right? Confidence that my brother won't bullshit somebody I care about into leaving me?"

"Boys," Mom warns. "Don't start."

"We're talking things out," Geddy says, switching off the range and turning to face his brother. "Right? Communication?"

"You wanna talk lousy brothers, Ged? Remember what you did to me when you were fifteen?"

"Of course I do. You never let me forget it!"

"What?" Mom stops breading the fish to focus her attention on Allan. "What did he do?"

Allan's eyes bulge. "He never told you?"

"You never told _her_?"

"Somebody tell me."

Geddy goes first before Allan can tell his own twisted version of things. "I lied to Allan so he would go to the baseball field after school and get beat up."

"Why would you do that?" Mom says, turning to him with disappointment in her eyes.

"Because I was a stupid, jealous fifteen-year-old."

"You were jealous of me?"

It occurs to Geddy, staring at the bewildered expression on his brother's face, that he's never told him this before. "Yeah. I mean, Mom and Dad liked you better, and you were smarter than me and better at everything..."

"We didn't like Allan better," Mom says. "We don't pick favorites."

Saying "that's bullshit and you know it" to your mother probably isn't a wise choice, so Geddy opts to say, "Well, I didn't _know_ that. That's just how I felt."

Mom turns to Allan again. "So this is why you've been holding onto this grudge against Geddy?"

Allan stays silent, shamed by his mother's disapproval.

"Geddy, did you apologize?"

"Yes! Over and over. But when I started dating Nancy, he told her what happened so she would break up with me. I was a stupid teenager when I wronged you, Allan. What's your excuse?"

Mom looks heartbroken, and Geddy feels sorry for her. It's not every day you find out your children are terrible, petty people.

"I was jealous too," Allan mumbles.

"Of what? It was probably just a matter of time before she dumped me anyway. But you had to turn her against me and rub it in my face by getting married."

"Yeah, well, look where it got me." Allan sighs, staring at the countertop. "How do you make something right when you've made it so wrong you can never go back?"

Geddy doesn't know if Allan is talking about their relationship or his marriage. "You can say you're sorry. And mean it. Just try to be better."

Allan takes a deep breath and says, "I'm sorry."

Geddy wants to forgive him, but it's not like issuing a certificate. It will be a continuous process of forgiving him every time the repercussions of his evil deed creep into Geddy's mind. But Allan is clearly going through some industrial-strength shit right now, and being a dick hasn't made things better, so why not try being kind and see where it goes?

"I forgive you. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry too."

* * *

The air is cool and calm that evening for the harvest party. Outside in the backyard a tent has been erected, lit up with lanterns. Inside the tent are tables lined with platters of food and bottles of wine. Geddy can see the excited bustle of partygoers from upstairs out his childhood bedroom window. It's the first time he's set foot in here since he arrived.

Allan's voice sounds from the doorway. "Did you go gay so I couldn't steal anyone else you date?"

"Stealing implies Nancy didn't make her own decision." Geddy faces him. "And I didn't 'go' gay. God, you sound like Dad."

Allan raises his eyebrows. "You told Dad?"

"You didn't?"

"No, Jesus, I'm not that much of an asshole."

"You wanna try that again?"

Allan sighs, stepping inside the room with caution, like he's never been in here before. "Okay, I _am_ that much of an asshole. But I told Mom 'cause I knew she'd keep it to herself."

"Why were you even at the boat to begin with?"

Allan sits on the edge of the bed. "I wanted to talk. And you're right; when I saw you two, I was just pissed off that you were getting some and I wasn't."

Allan is confiding in him, and Geddy is suddenly terrified by this intimacy. They have never been the type of brothers to talk to each other about their own lives or the problems within.

"Can I ask why she kicked you out?"

"A whole bunch of reasons," Allan says, which is basically a polite no. "A lot of mistakes. Some of them hers. Most of them mine." He rests his head in his hands. "I don't know what to do. I wanna go back and fix things, but I don't know if I should. I'm just a dumb asshole, and I don't think I've made her life better by being in it. She's obviously unhappy; why not let her find someone better?"

Since when has Geddy become the therapist to everyone in his life? First Alex, now Allan. Will John be next with some sort of crisis Geddy has to guide him through?

Geddy sits beside him. "Recognizing you're a dumb asshole is a step in the right direction," he says with a faint smile. "But being a self-pitying asshole is worse, and she won't respect that. You owe it to her to be better. You have to try to fix things. Maybe she'll say no, but you'll know you gave it a shot. And you'll regret it forever if you don't."

"I ruined your relationship with Nancy, my practice is failing, and now my own marriage is shot to hell. Tell me I don't destroy everything I touch."

"You don't. C'mon, you're not even thirty yet. You're still figuring shit out. It's okay to make mistakes. Just learn from them and do better next time."

A knock sounds from the doorframe, and Mom is standing there smiling. "Geddy, your friends are looking for you."

Standing on the back patio are Alex, John, and Neil, each of them looking handsome. Alex is wearing a ruffly, flower-patterned blouse over faded blue jeans. John has chosen worn jeans and a collared shirt, open at the throat, which Geddy is almost certain he's previously seen on Alex. Neil looks the part of a college professor, wearing a sweater vest and a bowtie—a bowtie, for God's sake—a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and dark slacks.

Geddy slides open the glass door leading outside, and Alex's face breaks out into a grin.

"Hey!" he says, barely stopping himself from taking Geddy's hands in his own. "I told you we'd come."

"And I told you there'd be booze," Geddy says, amused that the three of them already have glasses of sparkling white wine.

"You heavily implied it," Alex corrects, and they head toward the tent. "I think your mom approves of me, by the way." His delight over this particular fact would be comical if Geddy didn't know that Alex's family life left a lot to be desired. "She said I seemed like a 'nice young man.'"

"She says that about everyone," Geddy jokes. "My dad's the one you gotta watch out for. It's probably a good idea to just say you're my friend."

"He won't be able to tell?"

"Dad tends to see what he wants to see."

When they arrive at the tent, Alex and John hurry to the buffet table and pretend to be dignified adults. Neil hangs back with Geddy by the tent's entrance like a hired guard.

"I would've never guessed this was your parents' place," Neil says. "What was it like growing up with a vineyard in your backyard?"

Geddy shrugs. All he's got is his own experience, so he can't really compare it to anything. "It was okay. I helped my dad with the vines. He taught me a lot about the process of making wine."

"So you could probably run this place twenty years from now, huh?"

"That's the plan, I guess. But..." Geddy sighs and looks out at the vines. "I moved to Toronto because I wanted to see if there was something else out there for me. And I wanted to get as far away from here as I could without needing to know French."

"I went to England one summer with that same idea," Neil says, sipping at his wine. "I didn't find what I was looking for either."

Geddy glances behind him at Alex and John gleefully piling food onto their plates. So much for the 'dignified adults' façade. "I'll stay here for them. It's not some huge sacrifice."

Neil smiles, his mustache twitching under the effort. "Alex will be glad to hear that."

"Enjoying the party, Ged?"

Geddy sort of jumps, still not used to Dad's proclivity to appear right the hell out of nowhere. "Y—yeah."

Dad notices Neil standing there. "Are you one of Geddy's friends?"

"That would be me," Neil says, shaking Dad's hand. "Neil Peart. I'm a professor at the university."

"Wow," Dad says, looking impressed. "That's quite a job. What do you teach?"

"Shorthand? English. The long version? Literary studies and critique."

"I guess you like to read, huh?"

"That's pretty much what most kids do when they're shy and no good at sports," Neil says with a self-deprecating chuckle.

"Oh, Geddy was the same way," Dad chortles. "But so was his brother."

Alex and John arrive to save Geddy from the disaster of an embarrassing childhood story. "Ged, this food is amazing!" Alex says, his mouth half-full. "Who catered?"

"Geddy and his mother spent all day in the kitchen preparing the food," Dad says.

Alex gapes. "What a team. When John helps me cook it's just a disaster." He swallows, making the connection. "Oh, you must be Geddy's dad? I'm Alex, and this is my roommate John."

They shake hands, and Dad asks, "How did you meet Geddy? Are you old classmates of his?"

"Um, no, we just met a few days ago in town," Alex says, and Geddy hears the nerves in his voice. "We really like your wines."

Oh, a suck-up move. Nice.

"Well, thank you, Alex. I always enjoy hearing that. What do you do for a living?"

"I'm an artist. I paint... things."

Smooth.

Dad nods that way of his when he's just confirming that he heard you. "Really? Y'know, Mary and I have been looking for something to hang above the fireplace. I'd like to see your work sometime. Maybe if you're not too busy, I could buy a custom painting from you."

Alex gasps, looking to Geddy for reassurance. "Is he joking? Is this some kind of weird test?"

"No, I think he's serious," Geddy says, just as stunned as Alex.

"Um, well, yeah, that would be great," Alex stammers. "Thank you."

"This doesn't happen to him very often," John says for context.

"What about you, son?" Dad asks John. "What do you do?"

"I own a garage downtown."

"Oh, a fellow entrepreneur!"

"Yes, sir."

Dad looks a little bewildered. "And so formal!"

John smiles sheepishly. "My dad was ex-military. US Army."

"Thank him for me," Dad says, and Geddy feels the wallop. "Well, I'll let you all get back to enjoying the party. It was nice meeting the three of you."

Dad disappears into the crowd, and Geddy leads them to an empty table where they can sit and eat. "John, your dad's from the US?"

"And my mom. I'm a dirty American on the inside," John jokes, sitting beside Geddy.

"Hey, neither of my parents are born Canadians," Geddy says. "Should I be self-conscious about that?"

"Nah, you're self-conscious about enough already." John chuckles and pats Geddy's thigh before digging into the food on his plate.

"So what made your parents come to Canada?"

Alex takes that one, since John's preoccupied with delicious eggplant parmesan. "According to John, his mom worked in a hotel that was spitting distance from the US-Canada border, so they couldn't justify not visiting. When they did, they liked Toronto enough to move there later."

John swallows so he can speak. "We lived in Detroit," he says like it's a shameful secret. "My dad worked at the General Motors factory after the war. I remember going to a lot of Red Wings games since the stadium was close by. I was like... thirteen when we moved. Alex taught me a lot about how things worked here."

Geddy is kind of in love with their love, and he's thrilled he gets to be a welcome part of it.

"Here you are," Allan says, and God damn it, people need to quit sneaking up on Geddy. "And I guess these are your friends." Allan swings around the side of the table and looks at Alex. "Sorry for being such a prick the last time we met."

"You could have been a lot worse," Alex says. "You're forgiven."

"Just that easy, huh?"

Alex shrugs. "Sometimes it is."

"Um, guys, this is my brother, Allan," Geddy says, introducing them. "Allan, this is Neil and John."

"Nice to meet you," Allan says with a nod. He looks at Geddy. "Mom said I should meet your 'delightful friends'—her words—so here I am."

Alex asks the question Allan's too prideful to ask himself. "Do you wanna sit with us?"

"I don't wanna intrude on anything."

Alex makes an exasperated noise and tugs Allan onto the bench beside him. "If you were, I wouldn't have asked."

* * *

Later, after a few more drinks at the bar, John murmurs, "If I wanted to get you alone, where would we go?" into Geddy's ear. Geddy shivers, goosebumps prickling over his skin.

"Um..." He glances around, searching for Alex and Neil in the crowd. He finds Alex roped into a conversation with Mom and Dad. Neil is entertaining more stuffy professor types; inexplicably, Allan is in the small circle of people listening to Neil's jokes. "I guess we could go upstairs to my room." Geddy winces at how juvenile that sounds.

"Lead the way."

Geddy weaves through the throng of partygoers and across the backyard. The patio door creaks when Geddy slides it open, but even if someone spotted him, what would they say? It's Geddy's house, too.

John glances around at the interior of the house, but for the most part he's focused on Geddy, which makes Geddy a little self-conscious as he takes the stairs. "Nice place," John says.

"Let's not do small talk," Geddy says, gaining a bit of confidence in the face of John's attraction to him.

"But that's part of my foreplay experience."

Geddy opens the door to his bedroom. The curtains are wide open, so he shuts them, because the last thing he wants are prying eyes discovering his tryst. As soon as the drapes snap shut, John is warm and solid against Geddy's back. He pushes Geddy's hair aside and mouths at the nape of his neck.

"Alex told me you put out for him," John says in a low voice, his hand sliding over the front of Geddy's jeans and rubbing his crotch.

Heat pools low in Geddy's belly. "Did he—did he actually phrase it that way?" His words come out in ragged breaths as John squeezes him through denim. "'Cause I think he might've given you the wrong idea."

"He told me he jerked you off. He made you come." John unzips and unbuttons him enough to ease a hand inside. His nails scrape through the hair at the base of Geddy's cock, and Geddy holds his breath. "He kissed you."

Geddy slowly turns to face him. "You can do all of that if you want," he says, his voice wrecked.

John kisses harder than Alex does, an insistent push of mouth that knows what it wants and isn't shy about taking it. Geddy moans around the kiss, his hands knotting in the front of John's shirt to pull him closer. John squeezes Geddy's ass, and Geddy makes a surprised noise into John's mouth.

"You have no idea what you do to me," John breathes, slow and deliberate. His hands are still cupped around Geddy's ass, like he wants to spread him open and push inside, and, fuck, that's too much.

"How drunk are you?" Geddy has to ask, because no one has ever touched or talked to him like this without alcohol involved. And it's not like booze wasn't involved to some degree here.

John chooses not to answer that and kisses him again, his stubble grating against Geddy's chin. His mouth is hard and wet, and Geddy doesn't realize they're moving until his back bumps against the bedroom door. John's hands are everywhere: skimming over his stomach, fingers pinching his nipples, palming the curve of his ass. John tugs his jeans down, and Geddy has to ease away from John's mouth, frantically dragging in air when his fingers curl around his half-hard cock.

John plucks open the buttons of Geddy's shirt. He avoids Geddy's throat for obvious reasons, biting kisses over his chest and stomach. Geddy squirms and groans when John takes a nipple between his teeth. John's fingers tighten around Geddy's hips, his other hand fondling Geddy's erection.

"Tell me what you like," John says through a rush of breath. His thumb and forefinger pluck and pinch at the base of Geddy's cock, and Geddy's legs quake.

"This is—this is good."

"I wanna suck you off," John says, his breath hot over Geddy's mouth, and if Geddy wasn't already hard, he sure as fuck is now. His dick swells embarrassingly in John's loose fist, and Geddy makes a choked, greedy noise.

Taking this as permission, John kneels and doesn't waste time swallowing him down. Geddy bites down on a moan when the head of his cock bumps the back of John's throat. He pushes his fingers into John's hair to show his appreciation, and John hums around him, his mouth all heat and wet suction.

"Fuck," Geddy says shakily. His senses are finely tuned to the wet flare of sensation around his dick. John definitely knows what he's doing, probably due to years of experience with Alex. Shit, now Geddy's picturing that, and it's hotter than it has any right to be.

John's lips work around the hilt, tongue darting out to tease his balls, and Geddy can't help the way his hips snap forward in desperation for more. John seems used to this type of thing, because he doesn't gag or pull away, just goes with it and keeps sucking him slow and easy. His hands are warm on Geddy's hips, holding him still as his mouth works in lush, wet sucks.

Geddy makes an embarrassingly loud noise, his fingers clutching at John's hair, and he tries to choke out a warning that he's going to come, but the words catch in his throat as his orgasm shakes out of him. John moans in gratitude, drinking him down, mouthing lazily at the root of Geddy's softening cock. Geddy's shaking a little, his breathing shuddery and messy, and John's hands squeeze his hips, rubbing up and down to soothe him.

John takes his time before letting Geddy flop free. He kisses his way up Geddy's body, leaving playful nips over his skin then claiming Geddy's panting mouth again. Geddy's still shaking, but John holds him steady, and even though he just came everything feels warm and close and tight.

John's tongue swipes over Geddy's bottom lip before he moves away enough to speak. "I didn't think you liked me that much," Geddy says, trying to keep his voice calm and even.

"'Cause I'm an ex-jock?" John teases with a lilted eyebrow.

"No," Geddy says, but that's a tiny lie. "'Cause you didn't really seem like you wanted me the way Alex does."

"Alex is a bit of a slut."

"And you're not?"

John smirks and shrugs. "I thought it might scare you off, or you'd think I was being an asshole."

"Yeah, I wouldn't assume the best intentions of a good-looking, muscley guy trying to get into my pants," Geddy says, brushing his fingertips over the heat of John through his jeans. "You want me to take care of you?"

"Later," John murmurs, the word a tantalizing promise.

* * *

Geddy stumbles out of the house with John in tow, hoping he doesn't look as messy and breathless and red-cheeked as he feels.

"Try not to look so guilty," John says, nudging him with an elbow. "You act like you've never fooled around at a party before."

Geddy's shamed silence speaks volumes.

"Oh, shit, you haven't, have you?"

"The only parties I've ever been invited to are these," Geddy says, gesturing to the tent.

"If it's any consolation, you didn't miss much." John claps a loving hand on Geddy's shoulder.

Alex holds a glass of wine in one hand when John and Geddy find him inside the tent. Neil's corralling him away from the buffet table, which explains Alex's pouty expression, but his demeanor brightens when he sees the two of them. "Did you get laid?" he asks after pulling them close.

Geddy's embarrassed his face is so easily read. "A little."

"Nothing little about it," John snickers.

Alex grins, turning his attention to Geddy. "By the way, when your mom gives out her recipe for caramel marshmallow bars, does that mean she likes me or that she's trying to poison me?"

"She definitely likes you. She only makes those on holidays."

"Also she's in agreement about having me paint something for your house. Are you sure she knows about us?"

"If you look half as smitten talking with her about Geddy as you do with me, yeah, she knows," John says.

Alex's mouth is a curl of amusement. "Jealous?"

"Endeared."

* * *

An hour and a half later, Alex is on the bus with John, Geddy, and Neil, heading toward the houseboat. The moon and stars shine brilliantly in the indigo sky. Alex watches the beach town roll by under the blanket of darkness.

"Thanks for inviting us," Alex says quietly to the reflection of Geddy in the window. "It was nice to feel like part of a family again."

"You're always welcome there."

"It would probably be really weird for me to show up at your parents' place without you."

"You wouldn't have to," Geddy says, and Alex turns his head to look at him. "I'll stay."

Alex's heart leaps into his throat. Only one other person has been willing to radically rearrange their life to stay with him: John.

"You will?"

"Yeah, why not? You guys are great, and there's no real reason to stay in Toronto. Everything I want is here." Geddy smiles.

Alex feels his chest shudder. The words come out before he can stop them. "I love you."

Geddy's small eyes blink open impossibly wide.

Oh shit.

Alex should probably do some damage control. He spills out a torrent of apologies and justifications. "I know that sounds crazy and naïve and dumb, but that's how I feel. You understand me. You make me happy. And I thought John was the only person who could do that."

Geddy smiles again and takes Alex's hand in his own. He doesn't say 'I love you' back, but he doesn't need to.

When they arrive at the houseboat, Neil says goodnight and retires to his stateroom. Alex and Geddy are already joined at the mouth, hands pushing under shirts and fumbling with buttons. Geddy's mouth is warm and sweet, and Alex wants to lose himself in it. Geddy is a little apprehensive, but his body is soft and eager when Alex touches him, responding with needy pushes into Alex's hands as he gets his shirt open.

John twists open a beer and heads onto the main deck, so Alex figures they've earned some alone time. Alex is already hard inside the tight grip of his jeans, and he guides Geddy down the hall to his bedroom, their mouths still latched together. He nudges Geddy into the room until the backs of his knees bump against the foot of the bed. Geddy goes easily, his hair splayed across the duvet.

"Oh, is that one of yours?" Geddy asks, his head tipped back to view the painting hung above the headboard.

Alex breaks the quick, frantic attention his mouth is giving Geddy's throat to glance up and say, "Yeah," in a breathy gush. Then he's on top of him, kissing Geddy's chin, his mouth, working down to the exposed skin of his chest. Geddy makes a broken noise when Alex's tongue swirls around a nipple. Alex takes the nub in his teeth, gentle, and Geddy tangles both hands in Alex's hair.

Alex follows the line of his body, kissing down to his navel before Geddy's jeans stop him from going further. He works open the button and zipper, jerking his jeans and underwear down his legs in one go. Geddy's hips squirm, and Alex can't breathe with how much he wants this.

He curls his fingers around the base of Geddy's dick. Geddy groans and sways his hips into Alex's hand. "I wanna fuck you," Alex tells him before opening his mouth around the swollen head of his cock. Geddy's dick is more length than girth, and Alex imagines how it might feel inside of him, fucking him deep and filling him up.

Alex eases back and says, "Wanna be inside you." Geddy's trembling, his fingers tight in Alex's hair. "But you've never done anything like that, huh?"

"No," Geddy shakes out.

Alex is moving before he knows what he wants, retrieving the lube from the nightstand drawer. He kneels at the foot of the bed, tugs Geddy's jeans all the way down so he can open his legs. Alex gets his fingers slippery and teases a single digit at Geddy's entrance, and, oh God, oh Jesus, the fucking noises he makes are amazing.

Geddy's body tenses in surprise, his hips lifting slightly off the mattress.

"You gotta relax, baby," Alex says, rubbing him there with the faintest pressure. He presses a kiss to the side of Geddy's knee, watching how Geddy responds to him. Geddy sways and rocks into Alex's hand like he wants this, like he wants more. His cock is hard and tight, the vein on the underside slowly becoming more pronounced.

Alex slips a finger in, teasing, testing, and earns himself a high, shameless whine from Geddy. Geddy is tight and hot inside, and Alex works him open slowly, experimenting with different pressures and touches.

He eases his finger out, and Geddy whines a graceless sound of loss. His hips roll forward, seeking the careful touch of Alex's hand. Alex gets his fingers dripping wet again, pushes one digit in, then another. Geddy's yelp of arousal makes Alex's cock throb and ache, and Alex has to stop himself from reaching down and jerking off, instead looping his free arm around Geddy's thigh.

Alex watches the quick, wet pushes of his fingers inside Geddy. Part of him still can't believe this is actually happening, but Geddy's whining Alex's name and rutting into his hand, so, yes, this is absolutely real.

"You like this?" Alex asks, rubbing and stroking and pressing.

Geddy whimpers. He clutches the sheets, Alex's hair, whatever he can grab.

"I like watching you. You have no idea what you look like."

" _Alex_ ," Geddy begs, his entire body tight and shuddery. He opens his legs a bit more, and Alex tries for quick and rough this time, watching where Geddy's stretched open around his fingers. Alex's erection is a pulse of angry-hot need in his jeans, but he's fixated on Geddy, the way his body jerks with each lavish, wet slide of his fingers.

Geddy cries out and loses himself, coming messily over his stomach. Forced out, Alex rubs him through the comedown until his own erection is too painful to bear. As he digs himself out of his jeans, he gets an idea. He doesn't know if Geddy will like it, but Alex likes it when John does it to him, and a little experimentation won't hurt.

Alex moves so he's standing, angles Geddy's hips in just the right way, and in only a few strokes and squeezes he's coming between Geddy's legs, laying long gooey stripes over the wet pink of his hole. "Fuck," Alex huffs out, his orgasm stripped from his bones. His legs feel like jelly, which makes it easier to slide to his knees and glide his tongue where Geddy is warm and slick and tight.

Geddy moans an exhausted, ragged sound, like he can't even handle anymore. Alex licks and teases, lapping at the mess he made, and Geddy wriggles over the sheets.

The door creaks open, and John says, "I gotta know what the fuck you guys are doing in here. Geddy didn't sound like that when I blew him."

Geddy, already flushed red, blushes even deeper. "You could hear me? I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, baby," John says, setting his half-empty beer bottle on top of the dresser and moving toward the bed. "Alex gets loud too. One of the reasons I love him."

"How does Neil even sleep here?" Geddy wonders, staring at the ceiling. His chest heaves as he catches his breath.

"Earplugs, probably." Alex drags his tongue along the flaccid length of Geddy's cock before lapping at the jizz smeared over his belly.

John shrugs out of his shirt and sits on the bed beside Geddy's prostrate form. "Did he fuck you up?"

"Yeah," Geddy says, his voice still trembling. He glances down at the way Alex is licking him clean. "I need a shower."

John motions to the halfway open bathroom door. "It's all yours. But I wouldn't bother. We'll just make you dirty again."

* * *

Geddy wakes up the next morning with what can only be described as a sex hangover.

Someone's leg is curled over his hip, and Geddy twists his head a bit to notice the warm body he's currently sprawled on top of belongs to Alex.

Last night streams through his head in a flicker of pornographic images. He remembers being caught in a tangle of naked, sweaty limbs, of kissing and touching and stroking and rubbing. He's definitely going to hell for most of the things he did last night. A prime example: giving Alex head while John fucked Geddy from behind. It probably doesn't help that Geddy enjoyed it way more than he should have. He might have a submission kink that needs to be explored.

The leg thrown over Geddy's hip moves, and John makes a sleepy noise in his throat, his body stretching out beside Geddy. Geddy can't twist around to see him without breaking his own neck or waking Alex, but he can feel the warmth emanating from him like a space heater.

Alex's face is calm and innocent in sleep, and Geddy now knows he looks nothing like that when he comes. After last night, Geddy knows a lot of dirty things about Alex and John that he's filed away for later.

"Morning, Ged," John says softly. He walks his fingers up Geddy's spine, and Geddy shivers. "Think you'll be able to walk?"

Geddy chuckles. "If I can't, will you carry me?"

"Don't push your luck," John huffs, and Geddy hears the smile in his voice.

There are fingers threading through Geddy's hair, and Geddy twists to locate the hand responsible. Alex grins at him, and there's a shift of limbs beneath Geddy.

"Hey."

"Hey."

It should probably be more awkward waking up naked in bed with two other (also naked) guys that you let violate your various orifices, but Geddy's surprisingly cavalier about last night's unexpected threesome. He could get used to this. It's nice to be wanted, and John and Alex aren't too bad to look at either.

Someone's stomach growls in a way that's impossible to ignore.

John says, "Anybody else really want bacon?"

On any other day Geddy would say no, but he's feeling particularly sinful this morning.

"Sure."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this ot3 as much as I do! I'm totally down for writing more of this ship (as well as Alex/John oOPS), so let me know if that's something you want too~


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